


sex, zigaretten und falsche liebe für dummkopfe

by untouchableocean



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: (kinda), M/M, Mirror Sex, Public Humiliation, Semi-Public Sex, Set in 2014, man how do i tag this, pls x, this one is good you should read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21773263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchableocean/pseuds/untouchableocean
Summary: A German, a Mexican, a nightclub, some cigarettes, and some cum.
Relationships: Nico Hulkenberg/Sergio Perez
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	sex, zigaretten und falsche liebe für dummkopfe

**Author's Note:**

> yeah idk where this came from, i thought of it on the train two days ago and then it Just Kind Of Happened
> 
> for once i came up with the title myself. it means 'sex, cigarettes, and fake love for dummies'. thanks. i'll go now.

Like many of Checo’s...ahem, _ encounters _, it starts in a club.

The team got to Hockenheim a day early to ‘get a head start’, but everyone knew that just meant ‘party until the cows come home then roll into media day with extra tinted sunglasses and an aspirin to boot’. The dance floor is a mad crush of people and Checo’s only two shots down when he feels a familiar hand slide around his waist.

His first instinct is to spin around, and when he does he’s met with the striking blue eyes of his gorgeous asshole teammate. Nico grins under the strobe lights and lifts his hands to rest on Checo’s shoulders, meeting neatly at the back of his neck.

“Evening, beautiful.”

Checo rolls his eyes and glances around, looking for anyone they might know. The dance floor is so dark and packed that he can’t recognise a soul, and he supposes that means that not a soul can recognise him either. Nico steps closer, pressing their chests together and sliding his hands down to cup Checo’s arse. Checo gasps as Nico squeezes, pulling him even closer and practically grinding their crotches together.

The music turns up and the crowd cheers, the noise tearing through Checo’s head like a sonar wave. Nico slips one hand under his shirt, trailing up his back and lightly scratching at his spine. Checo shudders and puts his hands on Nico’s hips, letting out an unholy groan as Nico rubs his thigh between his legs, sending jolts of pleasure through his melting body.

“Wanna take this elsewhere?”

Checo licks his lips and looks up, Nico’s face a million colours at once from the lights above.

“Fuck yes.”

He lets Nico move them back out of the crowd, not taking his eyes off of him as they stumble through the mesh of people. He can barely hear him over the pounding beat of the song but he can tell that he’s mostly talking German anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Nico spins him around, and when his back hits a door he pushes it open, Nico following him into the bathroom and kicking it shut behind him.

Nico grabs Checo’s face and immediately sets about kissing him hard and fast and Checo doesn’t even have time to catch his breath before he finds himself sitting on top of the counter, nestled between two sinks and parting his legs to let Nico stand between them. Nico holds the back of Checo’s neck with one hand and palms the front of his jeans with the other, and Checo whimpers when he realises he’s already hard.

“Cute,” Nico murmurs, “I don’t even have to get my clothes off to make you horny.”

Checo mumbles something that could sound something like _ fuck off _ but Nico leans in to kiss him again before he can finish forming his words. Nico undoes Checo’s jeans and presses against his dick through the fabric of his briefs, smirking when he feels them already damp from pre. Checo knows he’s blushing, and Nico hums, moving to bite a small mark on Checo’s collarbone, just out of sight.

There’s a crash from outside the door and Checo jumps, but Nico just laughs and slips his hand down into Checo’s pants. Checo moans and falls forwards a little, resting his head on Nico’s shoulder and closing his eyes so he’s not overwhelmed already. Nico rubs at the back of his neck, gentle but firm, just enough to send shivers down his spine and pop up goosebumps all across his body.

“Nico, _ fuck _, Nico what if someone comes in-”

Nico speeds up, and Checo shakes from the stimulation, burying his face in Nico’s neck to hide himself from the invisible audience.

“Then I guess…” Nico pulls at Checo’s hair until he’s looking him in the eyes. “...they’re just gonna see you come all over your jeans. But you’d probably _ love _ that, wouldn’t you?”

Nico’s voice drips arousal and he licks his lips, still gripping the back of Checo’s head. Checo closes his eyes and swallows the lump in his throat, blushing furiously as he nods, trying not to pass out with a poisonous cocktail of arousal and embarrassment.

“You want everyone to know how good you are for me,” Nico breathes out, “want everyone to see your face when I make you come all over yourself.”

Checo’s breath catches in his throat and he feels like he’s choking. He looks back at the door, then back to Nico’s flushed face, and swallows again. He knows Nico will stop if he asks, he’s just got to say the word, but he’s so close already and the knowledge that there’s hundreds of people out there who have no idea what they’re doing just turns him on more, and he grips Nico’s shoulders and clashes their mouths together in a frenzied kiss.

Nico moans and bites down on Checo’s lip before pushing his tongue in, demanding access and Checo opens his mouth, losing the last of his inhibitions as the shitty fluorescent light above them flickers and the music blares outside the door and Nico goes faster and he’s fucking magic with his tongue and Checo can’t take it any more. He pulls away from Nico’s mouth and drives his face back into the crook of Nico’s neck, breathing faltering as he holds onto Nico for dear life.

“_ Joder _ , fuck, f- _ aah _ , Nico, Nico _ voy a _-”

And with a choked off gasp, he spills into Nico’s hand, trembling and praying that nobody walks in. After he’s caught his breath, he does up his jeans and looks down at Nico’s own bulge, tempted to reach and help him out but Nico catches on before he can even move.

“Leave it, I’m alright.” Nico smirks. “You can sort me out when we get back to the hotel.”

“Are you sure? You don’t even want me to-”

Nico leans close and holds a cum covered finger up to Checo’s lips, shushing him.

“Unless you’re going to let me bend you over and fuck you raw right across this counter, then I don’t want you to do anything. Okay?”

Checo flinches away, screwing up his nose at the finger in front of his mouth. Nico smiles suspiciously and Checo’s heart speeds up, wondering what kind of shithousery he’s about to pull. Before Checo can protest, Nico reaches down and wipes off his hand on Checo’s crotch, staining the front of his dark jeans with cum.

“AGH! _ ¡No mames! _ Come on, that’s disgusting!” He shoves Nico off of him and jumps off the counter, assessing the damage in the mirror as Nico doubles over laughing behind him. There’s a distinctive white splodge seeping into the denim and Checo looks at the stain dejectedly. “ _ Pinche pendejo _, I actually hate you.”

Nico pouts, still laughing, and comes up behind him, hugging his chest and leaning down to bite softly at Checo’s ear.

“No you don’t.”

Checo grumbles and squirms out of Nico’s hold, and they leave the bathroom together, Checo hiding unsubtly behind Nico as they amble out onto the empty street. It’s not too hot or too cold; a perfect night, and Checo looks up at the stars, poking through like holes in the night sky. He’s got no idea how late it is, and he bites his lip before reaching for his cigarettes in his back pocket. He feels around for a second, looking for the familiar box shape, but coming up empty.

“_ A la verga _, where are my-”

“These?” He snaps his head up and sees Nico holding up his cigarettes like a trophy. “I stole them when we were dancing. Pretty good, no?”

Checo gives him a deathly look and fishes his lighter out of his pocket before holding out his hand to get the pack back. Even in the dim street light Checo can see the mischievous glint in Nico’s eye, and Nico lifts the pack up out of Checo’s reach, dangling it tauntingly above his head. 

Checo rolls his eyes and doesn’t try and get it, just looks at it like a dog outside the butcher’s window. Nico seems to realise he’s not jumping for it and huffs, bringing it back down and studying the pack more closely. 

“West, huh? Didn’t they used to sponsor-”

“McLaren, yeah.”

Nico smiles but there’s no humour in it for once, and for the first time tonight Checo blushes with a feeling other than burning shame. Nico throws and catches the box a couple of times before pulling out two cigarettes and chucking the box back to Checo. He doesn’t ask for the lighter but Checo hands it over anyway, fixated on the tiny movements Nico makes as he lights up.

“So, you like German cigarettes then?”

Nico breathes out a plume of smoke, and Checo shrugs and steps closer, watching as the initial cloud floats up and dissipates above them. His mind flicks back to being 15, living alone in Germany, tired and miserable and desperately torn between his family and his future.

“I like something else German, too.”

Nico smirks and pushes the other cigarette between Checo’s lips, lighting it and draping his arm around Checo’s shoulders. Checo smiles warmly and for a split second, he almost forgets that they’re Hülkenberg and Pérez; for a fleeting precious moment, they’re nobody. Just a German and a Mexican, a blond and a brunette, boyfriends, lovers, fuckbuddies - just Nico and Checo, standing smoking outside a club in Hockenheim, and for just that frozen moment in time, he feels so fucking _ liberated _.

Suddenly, a car rumbles in the distance, and the moment is snapped away as quickly as it arrived. Checo desperately wants to reach out and grab it, hold onto that feeling of freedom and never let go, but it’s as impossible to grasp as the smoke seeping from the end of their cigarettes. He sighs as he exhales the smoke, looking up at Nico and wondering if he felt it too.

Eventually, a taxi rolls past and they stub out their dying cigarettes and bundle into the taxi. Nico represses the urge to lean on Nico’s shoulder as the taxi trundles towards the hotel, and he stares out the window, pretending he doesn’t notice Nico’s eyes undressing him in the reflection on the glass. When they get to the hotel, there’s a few people milling around the lobby and Checo looks down at his lap in dread. Nico stifles his laughter, leaning over Checo to open the taxi door and gesturing towards the lobby.

“Go on then,” he whispers, “wear it with pride.”

Checo bites the inside of his cheek and steps out of the car, praying that nobody sees him as he waits for Nico to follow. Nico appears by his side and they walk inside, and Checo can feel himself blushing furiously as he walks along with Nico, glancing from side to side and making sure nobody's looking at him. Despite everyone seemingly not really giving a shit about either of them, he can still feel the eyes of the world upon him, but more importantly, the eyes of-

He almost walks into a pillar, but Nico grabs his arm and pulls him in the right direction. He looks around again before setting his eyes on the lift. It seems so far away, even though it’s only about ten metres from where they are right now. He wants to run but people will definitely look then, but he kind of _ wants _ people to look - _ oh fuck, _ where did that thought come from? - and he pushes his hands in his pockets and faithfully trails behind Nico, his eyes darting from side to side as they head towards the lift.

It feels like a walk of shame - well, because it _ is _ a walk of shame, and with every passing second he’s more sure that people are staring. The unmistakable stain on his jeans is a horrible, sticky branding of all his sins, and there’s nothing he can say or do to stop people knowing what he did. He hates how he simultaneously wants to hide away and have Nico just fuck him right against the wall of the lift and-oh, they’re in the lift.

The door shuts behind them and Checo lets out a breath, leaning against the wall and burying his face in his hands. They’re alone in the lift and Nico pulls his hand away from his face, lacing their fingers and pressing himself against Checo’s side like he’s got a God-given right to be there. He runs a hand through Checo’s hair and kisses his temple, and it almost seems too tender for what Nico usually does.

“You did so good,” Nico hums into his ear, “so good for me.”

Checo swallows and nods, and soon enough the lift grinds to a halt on Nico’s floor. His room is thankfully right by the lift, and Checo finds himself crowded against the wall the second they step into the room, his back hitting the wall with an almighty thud. Nico’s on his mouth as soon as the door shuts and he yelps as Nico shoves his tongue in his mouth, the faint taste of cigarettes still lingering on both their tongues.

“God, you’re so fucking cute.” Nico tugs at Checo’s jeans and Checo goes to help but finds his wrists pinned above his head in an instant. “Ah ah, no, not your job.”

Nico uses his free hand to pull Checo’s jeans and briefs down and Checo kicks them off along with his shoes, already half hard again. Nico lets go of Checo’s wrists and pulls his shirt over his head in one swift movement, leaving him completely naked, exposed and shaking and pliant as Nico grabs his wrists again, towering over him and making him powerless.

“Fuck, the things I want to do to you.” He squeezes tighter on Checo’s wrists and rubs his hand up his bare chest, sweeping his thumb over his nipple and smirking as Checo gasps. “I want to do everything to you, and it kills me.”

Checo’s struggling to keep his eyes open but he stares up at Nico from under drooping eyelids, clinging to every word like a lifeline. Nico never shuts up during sex, and it annoyed Checo at first, but he’s grown to learn that he doesn’t have to respond, just nod and absorb the mindless babble like a _ good boy _.

“Want to fuck your throat until you can’t talk, fuck your ass until you can’t walk, tie you up and take what’s mine.” He trails down and takes hold of Checo’s leaking cock and Checo moans, needing more, more, _ more _. “Watch you shaking under me as I fuck you hard, with one hand on your throat and the other on your dick, you want that?”

“Fuck yes, _ fuck _ , Nico please, _ please _,” he whines, his voice thin and pleading as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the wall. “Fuck me, here, please, anything, I need-”

Nico silences him with a kiss, moving to hold his cheeks, pressing his thumbs into the soft skin and half sighing half panting when he moves back, looking down with an expression of - wonder? Adoration? Lust? Checo can’t tell, but whatever it is, it goes straight to his dick.

“Fuck, I want-” He rubs his thumb over Checo’s bottom lip and swallows. “I want you to see how beautiful you are when you beg for it. Shut your eyes.”

Checo obeys, and when Nico manhandles him across the room he goes with it, gripping the edge of the table when Nico pushes him down onto it. He drops his head but Nico grabs his hair, tilting his head straight.

“Okay, open.”

Checo opens his eyes and jumps when he’s met with his own reflection; there’s a mirror attached to the back of the table, and Nico’s dumped him right in front of it, leaning over him so he can’t back away, holding his head so he can’t even turn to the side. Checo closes his eyes and Nico laughs behind him, letting go and dropping his hands to hold Checo’s, leaning on his shoulder and whispering right in his ear.

“Stay.”

Checo nods, feeling a cold rush as Nico walks off, presumably to get the lube. He dares to crack one eye open, and he looks like a mess - his hair is all over the place from Nico grabbing and pulling at it, and his face is flushed deep red in the dim light of the room. He’s sweaty and shaky and horny and when Nico finishes undressing and gets back behind him he looks up, meeting his eyes for just a second before he drops his head again, overwhelmed already.

“You want fingers?”

Checo nods breathlessly, moaning softly when Nico pulls his cheeks apart and drags a wet finger over his hole. Nico pushes in and Checo bites his lip, muffling his cries as Nico adds a second finger almost straight away. It hurts, it always hurts but he knows he can get through it, just for the sweet release later when he knows Nico will push him over the edge, the pleasure more enticing than the sweetest apple Satan could ever offer him.

Nico splits his fingers and Checo can’t hold back a shout as he drops his head onto his forearms, the world seeming to fall away as Nico curls his fingers just right. He brushes against Checo’s prostate and sends a wave of pleasure up his spine, making him squirm under him. Nico pulls out and leans down, nudging Checo’s cheek with his nose and waiting until he turns and opens his eyes.

“Ready?”

_ Probably not, _ is the first thing that floats into Checo’s mind but he doesn’t care, he needs this more than anything, he needs Nico inside him right fucking now or he’s going to _ explode _ and he nods shakily, flinching when Nico drops a tiny kiss on his cheek before he stands back upright.

Nico spreads Checo’s cheeks and lines himself up, gripping his hips hard enough to leave tiny finger shaped marks on his skin. He presses forwards and Checo bites down on his arm, groaning and forcing himself not to instinctively move away from the pain. He lets out a muffled scream when the stretch gets too much, and Nico stops, waiting for him to calm down, stroking up his spine and gently tugging at his hair.

“C’mon, look up, look at me.”

Checo struggles to push himself up but he manages to lift his head, and he can see his eyes brimming with tears, mouth hanging open and Nico behind him, waiting for the signal. Checo takes a deep breath and nods, biting his ravaged lip again and watching the mirror steam up as Nico starts to move again and his breathing gets more and more erratic.

“Fuck, Nico fuck, you’re so-”

He’s cut off by Nico shushing him, leaning down to put his chin on Checo’s shoulder again. 

“I know, I know, you’re-_ fuck _-you’re doing so well,” he murmurs comfortingly as he bottoms out with a groan. “So good for me, yeah?”

Checo can’t do anything but moan helplessly as Nico moves back and grabs his hips again, digging his nails in so hard Checo’s sure he’ll have crescent shaped indents on him for days after. He holds himself up on his trembling arms and looks himself dead in the eyes - he’s panting and his whole body is rocking as Nico slams into him, sending tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto the table below.

“Fuck Checo, it feels like the first time every time, you know that?” Nico’s rambling again and Checo tries not to drown it out because it only makes him harder. “You’re so tight, feel so fucking good, taking my cock so well, making me feel so good.”

He hits Checo’s prostate at full force and Checo crumples onto his forearms again, pushing his body back to try and get closer to Nico, desperate for more. He whines pathetically as Nico snakes his hand round to his neck and pulls him vaguely upright, holding him but just managing not to choke him.

Checo rests his hand on Nico’s and pushes, trying to get him to press down harder but Nico laughs breathlessly and lets go, letting Checo fall forwards onto his hands. Checo arches his back as Nico changes his angle a little and it’s like a dam breaks in his throat, letting all his repressed words flow out with no filter.

“Fuck, oh _ fuck _ Nico, Nico _ te amo _, don’t stop, don’t-”

“What?” Nico slows down and it’s agony, and Checo glances at him in the mirror, dread washing over him. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, I didn’t say anything, please-”

“No, no I heard what you said.” Nico stops, still buried inside Checo, and leans forwards until Checo can feel his breath on his cheek. “Say it again.”

His voice sends a shiver down Checo’s spine, and he mentally curses himself for letting his tongue slip in the first place. Nico jolts a little, rubbing tantalisingly against Checo’s prostate. He takes a shaky breath, closes his eyes, and against the will of every screaming synapse in his brain he whispers-

_ “Te amo.” _

Nico thrusts once and stops.

“Again.”

Checo squeezes his eyes shut further and lets the words roll off his tongue again, heavy and unnatural.

_ “Te amo, oh, Nico, te amo, fuck-” _

Nico pulls back and he doesn’t even need to tell Checo again, because he’s already repeating it, an unholy chant as he sticks his arse back, begging for Nico to finish him off already. Nico can’t help but oblige, fucking him as hard as he possibly can, savouring every single syllable out of Checo’s mouth. It’s not long before Checo comes, a shaking, sobbing mess, falling against the mirror and letting his cheek rest on the cool glass.

It only takes a few more thrusts until Nico’s thighs tense, and Checo whimpers, writhing under Nico as he holds him still and comes inside him. After a few electric seconds of silence, Nico pulls out and Checo sinks down, barely keeping himself standing. He doesn’t resist when Nico pushes and pulls at him, knowing that he’s just posing him for his weird, ritualistic post-fuck picture.

He glances up and just catches the camera as Nico takes the picture, grinning triumphantly, and Checo blushes. He doesn’t mind it, in fact being treated like a conquest kind of turns him on, but he worries about where they’ll end up. And with that, Checo’s balance officially fails, and he falls ungraciously to the floor, shuffling until he’s on his back, throwing his arm across his eyes to block out the world.

“Hey.”

He grumbles as Nico crouches next to him. He’s already put his boxers back on, and he lifts Checo’s arm away, meeting his eyes. Nico’s cheeks are pink and his tone doesn’t hold the same mocking lilt it usually does when he speaks.

“Did you mean it?”

Checo bites his tongue. He’s not answering that, not in a million years. He’s not even sure if he knows himself - the answer sits deep down within a locked box, and should he ever find the key, he doesn’t think he’ll want to open it anyway. 

When he stays silent Nico hums noncommittally and stands up, offering Checo a hand. He considers it for a second before grasping it, letting Nico drag him into the soft, welcoming bed. Nico curls up behind him and falls asleep almost instantly, and Checo grasps the hand that sits on his chest, lacing their fingers together and staring dead-eyed at the faded wallpaper.

The next morning, Nico wakes up as Checo tries to sneak away unseen. He always pretends to be asleep when he leaves, because he doesn’t want Checo to know that he knows. He watches through one open eye as Checo pulls on his crucifix, and as he pushes the door open and heads out, Nico only hopes he doesn’t get lost on the way.

**Author's Note:**

> their safeword is vijay by the way
> 
> ¡no mames! = what the fuck/are you fucking kidding  
a la verga = what the fuck (again)  
te amo = i love you


End file.
